The Mad Overlord's Queen
by Ardina
Summary: Join the fray in the Verses of the Undying as the Dark Guard is forced to abandon her adopted home in search of more than living a half life. Far from the dark, cloying and ultimately unattainable attentions of the Overlord of Markarth she wilfully carves out a new beginning, but her lurid imaginings are far from through with her...
1. Prologue

_The sound of the large doors slamming shut at the top of the stairwell had her glance back for a brief moment. The look, over a slim shoulder, betrayed her inner turbulence even as she turned resolutely from the echoing noise, but not before the dim candlelight of the passage caught the faint sheen of moisture in her eyes._

_It was clear her attention was all for the destination, but her heart was slow to follow._

_The light tap of her footfall was at odds with the loud rapping of her heart as she followed the spiralling staircase further down into the damp bowels of the palace. The sharp snap of heel meeting stone was the rhythm that sounded out as she increased her pace to try and escape the coward that lurked within._

_Each rushed, careless, step across the moss covered slabs of stone seemed a ripe opportunity for a reckless death to take the young mortal from her destiny._

_What a shame that would have been._

_Down and down she raced with fingertips tentatively grazing the carved symbols etched in the curving walls. Unconsciously, she sought comfort in forgotten runes as if her blood already knew what her mind could not accept, but the dreams had not told her how to unlock the warmth just yet. There was nothing but the cold, slippery moss that welcomed her touch._

_She continued to fly down the steps until she came to a stop before a narrow door at the very base. Through the escaping fall of hair from her, usually, tight braid she traced the markings with her eyes._

_The guttering of a candle filled the sudden silence as she idly rubbed the collected mildew between forefinger and thumb. With a focus that had earned her a moniker, she stared hard at the old, ornate door with its ancient arcane markings of passage. The air rippled faintly with foreboding power in the muted light and for the first time she felt fear of the unknown._

_The door opened unaided heralding the beginning of her end._

_Wiping the gritty green mildew across the material of her leggings, she took a confident stride forward into the cavernous room as befitting an Elite, but still nervously tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear in an entirely subconscious gesture. It would do her no good to show fear in front of them. Never had she given them the satisfaction and she would continue to refuse them their ultimate desire._

_They might win a battle, but they would lose the war eventually._

_Upon entering she circled around a large and deep fire pit that burned white hot with flames leaping as high as a man. Its heat increased her body temperature and caused the loose lawn of the linen top she wore to cling uncomfortably to her body._

_In some ways, the heat made her glad she had left her beloved cloak behind along with everything else of value, though the comforting hue of her station and the depth of its anonymity were missed. She had become quite used to hiding herself away._

_The unnatural light from the fire threw dark shadows around the room which moved with a life of their own. Its high ceiling was a remarkable playground for the spectres to reach and dance. Their ghastly length spoke volumes for the forbidden power that lived within the deep well._

_It was clearer than before that this would be her reckoning, this would be the change she needed. There could be another life beyond the portal - she could feel it, her instinct told her so._

_If she survived their murderous intent of course._

_From behind the original door emerged a fair beauty who was clad in silken robes. She was familiar to the mortal, as would all of the Others be. With a voice that rang like soft rain she spoke, "So you have decided to draw enough courage to come at last half-breed?"_

_The mortal's eyes tracked the fair, seemingly angelical, creature as she moved closer, but remained silent. It was an old insult. One that had rung with particular vigour as the mortal had drawn ever closer to womanhood, and then, vigour had duly transformed into practised malice._

_Altered flames danced in the mortal's dark eyes as she steadily gazed at the creature and still said nothing in response._

_The beguiling angel faltered briefly under her watchful gaze and glanced towards the open door for support, but all the same said in hurried tones, "It's right that you leave child, though I have no care for you, I nor my sisters would wish to watch you suffer the fate of an unwanted… Attachment."_

_As the fair child of the night watched her words pierce their mark she further capitalised, "You were not meant for the wilds of Markarth, it is time that you returned home to start a new life."_

_There was little of a visible reaction from the mortal, it was yet another old taunt that had been delivered away from the ears that mattered. Always, out of the hearing of her questionable guardian and more diligent watchers._

_The swish of light skirts and the tentative clash of jewelled bangles filled the quiet as two more females appeared at the door._

_The first to speak was one with hair as deep and dark as her lips that chimed breathlessly, "We came to wish you well on your journey beyond the portal, to pay our respects."_

_At the falsehood the young mortal raised an elegant eyebrow._

_The other, a raven haired beauty with less humility in victory, delivered wounds, "After all, it's time you saw that you are no twin soul, you could never be as we are. There is nothing for you here, even if he did wish to further burden himself with your… Affliction."_

_There was no denying that the raven found her mark, she always had done._

_Suspiciously, no cross words escaped the mortal's lips and she restrained the call to inflict damage. For the mortal, there would be no point in denying them life. It would not change the facts of the matter._

_These were his chosen ones, not her._

_Instead of settling a blood debt, she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly._

_Undeterred, bolstered by the presence of others, the angel said, "A soul destined to be entwined is cherished and recognised, not," there was a deliberate pause before she continued, "humoured like an indulged child and left to train from birth as our men do."_

_A smile graced the insulted female's lips as she sighed heavily, easily tired of their games. There was really no need for their final show as she would leave Markarth regardless, but she regally waved them on never the less - it only served to increase their bite._

_"What partner would you be without enticing feminine grace?"_

_The taunting words came from deep, dark lips._

_"What mother would you make without a soft heart?"_

_The truthful sentiment was added by the raven one shortly thereafter._

_"What queen would you make as an outcast… Half-breed?"_

_Finally, lastly, the angel whispered the painfully obvious with more than perceived malice._

_Staring directly at the flames the mortal allowed their words to sink in around her before she bit, "You have always been so generous with your advice that I do not need further reminders."_

_The Others shared brief, nervous, but never contrite, glances between themselves._

_It was not long before she continued, "You would be wise to note your own words, that I am as cold as the steel I have learned to wield at his knee!"_

_The unpredicted, angry shout rang out and echoed all through the chamber. With menace lighting her features she turned on them with fierce words._

_"Push me and I will enjoy flaying the skin from your flesh," she spat at them. "Each of you!"_

_The three took a collective step back. Fear flashed across their lovely faces, it was a rare sight when the little ward of Markarth retaliated. Despite the livelihood of an Elite, they had never witnessed much but the mortal's stony silence in their presence._

_They had taken it for granted that the mortal knew she was unworthy. But, the display of anger was not enough to completely dissuade them as they bristled at the mortal's contemptuous tone._

_Before they could attempt a reprimand she spoke once more with a halting hand raised in their direction, "Save me from your poisonous tongues."_

_The mortal glared with all the banked fire in her soul. Hating them, hating him, and hating the world she inhabited before she finally said, "Or this graceless half-breed will cut them out - I think my cold heart would warm at the sight."_

_She stalked closer to them and they unintentionally retreated, but not before the angel could resist a barb, "But we have provided the key after all."_

_It was enough to remind the mortal of her original purpose._

_"Indeed you have," was the only response given as she held out her hand expectantly. Upon her face the anger ebbed to reveal the same mask that reflected hints of sorrow and yet, unbending determination._

_The raven haired female dropped a velvet pouch into her upturned palm and quietly said, "Taken from his person directly."_

_There was a light to her eyes as she said it, implying shared intimacies with the man who owned the items. A condescending, sly, gluttonous expression._

_There was no response once more as the three eagerly watched for the barb to draw blood, but to their apparent disappointment her hand merely closed around the bag and she proceeded to retrieve the contents. There was a rustling sound and out appeared two small vials in the palm of her hand._

_Vials filled with an ominously dark liquid._

_The angel spoke first, "You are to drink the contents of one vial-"_

_"Only one and I must return the rest soon," broke in the raven one._

_"It cannot be missed amongst his possessions," said the dark lipped female._

_At the sharp glance she received for this it was added plaintively, "The consequences would be dire for us."_

_"I am surprised you would not run crowing to him of your achievement on this night?"_

_Regarding the fragile vials in her hand, she used the fingertips of her other hand to draw her heavy braid over one shoulder. She could feel the hot slide of sweat roll down her back._

_The heat in the room was almost unbearable for the mortal whilst the Others, all of them pure bloods, failed to the register the discomfort._

_"You may never have been destined for him, but you must know that he will lack your skill with a blade," said the angel. "But don't worry, it is doubtful your place cannot be filled."_

_"Do you think so?"_

_She issued the query with an unpleasant smile. What she'd love to do to them was clearly written across her face._

_"As always you are a fountain of wisdom to my childish accumulation of knowledge."_

_"We seek only to help as your father was known to us. He would not wish to see you shame what was left to you as a legacy-"_

_"If you wish to stay then stay, but I had thought you might of possessed the courage required to free him of such a burden… Of you," said the fair angel._

_There was no mistaking the malice and the cutting edge. The dare placed before the mortal._

_With a last look in the direction of the Others she broke a single vial and swallowed the contents in haste. The liquid must surely have tasted foul for the look that graced the mortal's face expressed distaste. More deadly, it took less than a moment for the mortal to appear in difficulty as she struggled for her next breath._

_The tincture was at work._

_The vial crashed to the floor as her hand wrapped around her throat in panic and the Others bore smiles of dawning relish. It was a tincture that worked much faster than expected, but that might have been because it had never been used on a mere mortal._

_They approached their struggling victim on three sides with the great fire roaring higher and higher to the front of the group. It crackled unnaturally as though sensing its next victim drew ever nearer._

_"I have a confession child," murmured the angel. "We never knew your father and may only have given you one of the vials, where two might have eased your journey."_

_Her smile was genuine as it watched the young mortal bend double in the midst of suffocation._

_So preoccupied with the sensation of drowning, the object of their hate never thought to strike out at the cause of her pain._

_"I hope there will be no lasting damage, but then with mixed blood such as yours..."_

_Another, remarkably fair of face, trailed off purposefully with distinct delight colouring her tones._

_From the mortal's troubled stance it seemed unlikely that she would survive anything beyond the flames and it pleased them greatly. For well over two decades they had wished to be rid of the mortal._

_"The purging of flame might very well cleanse you of that taint of bad blood," sneered the last of the Others. "There is no room for your kind here, there never was."_

_"Perhaps you will be granted better odds in the next life," murmured one with dark lips, but she laughed cruelly to twist the sentiment._

_Together they inched closer around her wilting figure, the sound of slithering bangles odd over the choking gasps from the mortal, until finally, they pushed her doubled figure back into the pit of unnatural flames. It was a deceptively easy task as the vial had already accomplished more than they had hoped for._

_So obviously, the young mortal struggled for her very breath as she hit the ground with an unmistakable thud and not even the flames, that seemed to lovingly licking her figure, could rip a scream from her throat. She eventually collapsed heavily on her side, where the flames burned brightest and the gathering light obscured most of her body._

_The centre of the great fire seemed to impossibly gain in size as a body fuelled its blaze with its bright core expanding even further to swallow the fallen female figure and still, it gathered volume, so much so, that the Others cast fearful glances at one another._

_The old rumours began to swirl in their minds._

_"We are doomed for this!"_

_The raven haired beauty called out to her sisters over the roar and blinding sight before them._

_"The spirit of the Covens will know what we have done to Diana's daughter!"_

_The chamber shook, briefly, instilling terror in them all, but eventually the rumbling ceased and the flames receded to their previous size before all was then still._

_It was an unnerving hollow that settled around them, as if they expected a vengeful spectator to suddenly appear._

_"She's gone," said one in a disbelieving tone as she lowered a protecting arm from her face and then stared in horror at the empty pit of flames, looking for the mortal's charred remains. "Did we not kill her?"_

_"What she has experienced will be worse than death. I have heard that passing between planes takes a toll on the Undying, but she has not even matured into her abilities or received the correct tincture-"_

_"Make no mistake, it is a deserved fate! Another year and she would have taken him from us completely," interrupted the angel. "Forced out into the wilds themselves!"_

_Her fierce expression cowed them out of their pity._

_"As is, her arrival as a mere babe left us out in the cold from his affection. We must rebuild what we had now that she is gone."_

_"Can we-"_

_"We must! Now no more, we shall never speak of this again! Let us be gone, we have much to replace if we are to remain unscathed tonight..."_

The bleary image faded and the mists of fog retreated to reveal the empty chamber with the same unnatural fire burning much lower in the pit.

There were no leaping flames clawing for their next meal and there were no scheming wenches to be seen. It was quiet for the most part as the draw of unnatural power dissipated into the foreboding surroundings.

The one, tall, solitary figure in the room barked an order towards the open door to immediately summon his closest aide. A cold voice, much used to authority, reverberated off the old stone walls of the room.

To the enquiring aide he instructed, "Call off the search and have the Council assembled in the audience chamber."

Not once did the figure look towards the aide he spoke to, quite apparently orders from the Overlord were to be followed without question, or hesitation. There was no room for democracy in Markarth.

In fact orders normally were followed without question, but this was more than a usual circumstance.

Believing he had been dismissed without adequate explanation the aide reluctantly turned to leave under great duress, his bow taking an inordinate amount of time before turning away, but he was halted upon hearing the Overlord's voice once more.

"I was mistaken Enzio," he said in what passed for an apologetic demeanour.

Enzio's eyes snapped up at such a rare admittance to watch his Overlord. He took in the strange colour of his aura which gave away more than he'd care to know, but it was his physical form that spoke loudest.

The older being's hard gaze was resolutely directed at the depths of the fire pit that burned continuously in the room.

It was a look that Enzio had rarely seen before, but when it had been glimpsed, there was no doubt that the Overlord had a task that he meant to see realised.

Personally.

"It took the memory held by these very stones for the truth to be realised," he finished with a gloved hand imperially indicative of the old stone around them. With a brief glance at his Second, the Overlord snatched his dark leather gloves off and declared again in dismissal, "Have the Council assembled immediately."

As much as it was a revelation for the Overlord to admit he may have erred, it was not enough for Enzio.

"I do not care for apologies, where can I find her?"

The query was worded starkly and lacked the required protocol. It was a demand as Enzio moved around to stand in front of his Overlord, more than continuing to overstep the usual boundaries in his anxious state.

"What have they done with her?"

"So sure that they are responsible?"

The lack of respect from one so young was galling despite the gravity of the situation for the older being. He projected ice, purposefully goading Enzio with his words, "Perhaps they are not to blame and have been wronged-"

"Don't tempt me to do what should have been taken care of already," snarled Enzio in an uncharacteristic show of open defiance. "Those women should have been disposed of when they first crossed the line. You ignored the risk and now look at the consequences! Where is she?"

There was a demonic light in the younger man's eyes which was an unusual display from the empath. It was clear that the Overlord's beast was not the only demon to be unsettled by the Dark Guard's unexpected departure.

"They did this," he repeated, announcing what they both knew all too well. "She might be lost to me because of them!"

The final sentence reverberated around the chamber in much the same way that the young mortal's words had much earlier, and like then, the sound died a death with an uncomfortable result.

Not a sound from beyond the open door could be heard.

"You will remember your place before I put you back in it," came the quietly worded warning that had the younger man retreating in defeat.

The steely quality to the Overlord's gaze reminded anyone that his anger strained at the leash already. No further prompting was required.

"I do not need you clamouring for a chance at my throat - you are of more use to her alive, rather than dead," the Overlord announced making it succinctly clear who would best any challenge. "Remember that Enzio."

In light of the reminder, Enzio quietened his internal demon and responded in a far more subdued manner, "I offer my regrets, but I must know where she is."

He pulled an agitated hand through his usually impeccable hair.

None of the Elite had taken to rest since the young woman had gone missing, but perhaps because they were slightly closer in age and circumstance than any other, Enzio was further from himself than ever before.

His light shirt was lose and marked with dirt in places from his fruitless search. The darker trousers had fared no better. Not even when the Overlord had taken him from the skin traders had Enzio appeared so moved.

"She must be returned home. She was not happy at our last encounter, I know fear like never before now that she has been missing all this time. Her turning is-"

A pale and elegant hand was raised for quiet.

When silence reigned, a last lingering and very much calculating look at the pit of flames was administered before the Overlord of Markarth turned to leave as if Enzio had not shared his innermost turmoil.

Additionally, he plaintively ignored the pressing need to reveal what knowledge he now possessed to the other man. However, when he was no further than a few steps from exiting through the door he did turn back abruptly and imparted, "Do as I have asked and no more."

It was curt reminder of an earlier instruction and not what Enzio had wanted. Burning with the need for retribution and subsequent answers to the apparent mystery, Enzio was still forced to bow low to his Overlord, a required mark of owed respect.

The bile in his throat was just something he would manage, but manage he would, however hard it was a struggle for his usual discipline.

When Enzio was sure that the attention of his Overlord had left him, he raised himself to his full height and watched the dark figure disappear out the door. The malevolent aura of unrest followed him - it would not be long before action was taken.

Patience was all that was required.


	2. Chapter One

A fury was upon him as he stalked the halls of his domain. It was a black cloud that encompassed his aura as long, angry strides ate the distance to the east wing. The soles of his black boots struck an impatient tattoo on the hard marble floors as he strode forth, but he could not escape his thoughts.

He had quite unexpectedly felt a tear in his reality the very moment she had left this plane for another, the cold reality of being so connected to the mortal was enough, but moreover, he had not entirely believed that such a thing would dare transpire. That anyone would dare disregard his wishes, that she would even think it was not to be borne.

In truth, he had not needed to draw upon his abilities to summon the memory from the walls in the bowls of the High Palace, but its revelation would serve to remove any guilt from what he was honour bound to do. There would be time to deal with his mortal and their connection, but first he would deal with matters of betrayal closer to home.

In the process, he might even marginally appease the demon within - for a time at least.

Now that _she_ was gone, the ever present battle with his demon was painfully apparent. A battle that he had not fought in some time, since before she had been brought to the palace as a child.

It was a black rage that he was battling in order to maintain control as the questions rotated endlessly. His inner demonic companion prowled restlessly on the periphery of his iron control. No words came from the spirit, but it hammered his mind with feelings of it's own.

Wrath.

Betrayal.

_Revenge._

Why had she allowed them such liberties?

Why had she not fought to stay?

She must have known that she was… _Unique_ to him. It could not have escaped anyone's notice that she was a female held above all others, a female called upon by the Council, a female allowed to partake in lifting a sword – never mind to become an _Elite!_

It was so deep a rage that he could not distinguish his own fault, to hers, or to them. Whether it had been recognised or not in the past, it was now brutally apparent to him that she was the thread which bound his shattered mind, that prevented the demon within from ruling every waking thought, and that she had also left their plane of existence willingly.

She had abandoned her responsibilities.

Time was ticking faster than ever and time was usually something that rarely impacted an eternal creature. The single minded approach that had served him so well in many conquests before now focused in earnest. After all, everything always came down to a mere list of tasks.

Remove the Others, find her, most importantly bind her, and then return to Markarth.

Simple tasks.

Ones that prioritised her return. It was abundantly clear to him that he would need to find her soon in order to preserve what little sanity remained. Before his control was entirely eroded by the demon fruitlessly seeking its anchor. If not, then it would surely be a disaster for the domain he had so painstakingly carved out.

Upon hearing his approach, the great hallways had obviously become quite deserted as all set to flee in the face of their Overlord. It was no secret that the disappearance of his ward was causing an unprecedented disturbance.

He was left alone to traverse the familiar route.

Through his darkened, sacked suite of rooms he continued until he reached the entrance to an old sitting room that had not been used in the last twenty years or more. It lead directly to a connecting suite. With a wave of his hand the adjourning door creaked its arms open and he stepped through to survey the room with a murderous gleam in his eye.

In some dim part of his mind he noted that it had barely changed in all the long years that the suite had been maintained by comely beauties.

He took another step deeper into the room to cast an unpractised eye over the luxurious silks to recline against, afghans to kneel upon and somewhere, the gentle sound of running water was to be heard.

It was intended as a tranquil haven.

To another side the tall balcony doors were thrown wide in abandon to embrace the moonbeams which filtered their way through delicate gauze into the softly lit room and the cloying scent of roses permeated the air as incense burned in the far corners.

It was a decadent homage to intimate games.

"Vladislav," came the breathless voice as a siren waded from her silks to stand before him.

With her lovely features and hair as black as a raven's wing tumbling down her back, she was truly a sight to behold for any mortal man.

To a flesh and blood man she was splendid beyond the realms of fantasy with a beguiling look of innocence.

To a demon she was something other than innocent.

It was strange how time could change a perspective.

"We did not expect you to come here at this time," she hesitated momentarily as the full force of his cerulean gaze landed upon her. Her voice quavered ever so slightly, "I know the palace is in an uproar searching for-"

"But let there be no mistake that we are eager to see you here," quickly added an auburn beauty with her lips painted to a pleasing effect. She rose further from a divan.

The last female enchantress emerged to stand with her sisters-in-arms with a mere coy tilt of her flaxen hair. It fell to brush enticingly against her form. Together they stood in perfect sync almost trembling with equal parts fear and excitement at his unexpected trespass. It had been too long for them.

His gaze settled on each of them and each set of eyes subsequently gave way beneath the heavy weight of censure, one by one, through subtle signs of conscience. But if the power of his stare had not been enough to telegraph his intent, then the black choking colour of his aura was something they would physically feel, if not see, as it was gradually released to encircle their own.

A malevolence that mercilessly tested and threatened their mental barriers.

It was not long before their coy glances gave way to faint mewling terrors. Delicate and needy, something that he might have once responded to, but he simply took a single step forward as their small pathetic noises threatened to break the dam of sanity within his mind.

The fear that permeated the room was almost as overwhelming.

"What have we done to displease you?"

The flaxen angel tried to implore him with her cornflower blue eyes and soft voice.

"Have you not finally returned to us?"

The black iris in each of his eyes began to pulse with a strange reverberation as the bands of hypnotic blue almost became non-existent. His inner demon became more eager to slip the leash of restraint and partake in its plans as the press of violent bloodlust increased.

"We have patiently waited and patience should be rewarded," said his other, once lover, as she approached him.

Her grey eyes sparkled with long held pain as she desperately placed her crimson tipped fingertips onto the sleeve of his jacket. It was the raw emotion so plain to see across her features that held him still a moment longer before casting off her touch.

With a mere flick of his arm she collided with her sisters who bore equal expressions of alarm.

The Overlord of Markarth struggled for a semblance of control whilst his inner demon, who demanded satisfaction in the form of blood, vied for control. That they would have wrestled matters into their own hands and taken from him was almost too much to bear - that they had accomplished the potential demise of the mortal, right under his nose was maddening.

He strode a few feet away from them in the direction of the open balcony doors to breathe away some of the demon, but the salt laden air did little to diminish the call to violence. He had owed them nothing and they might have taken everything.

_"What must we do?"_

He turned at the sharp and high cry aimed at him. It was like an accusation rather than a beseeching query.

"What must we do so that you will return to us once more?"

The angel rose and drifted towards him with her otherworldly grace. Down on her knees before him, settled on a plush rug she entreated, "My purpose and my very being is dedicated to you. What must I do?"

She cried prettily with delicate sniffs, her head tilted at the correct angle of submission. It was everything that he had once demanded.

It was also a ploy that had granted them all freedom of the palace twenty years ago. He had granted them the autonomy of what they liked because they had no other life before him. It was to him they owed their position at court. It should have satisfied them to remain cosseted without any call for their purpose, but plaintively his leniency had bred ill will.

Fixated on his course of action he said to another, "Why would you expect to be rewarded on this night?"

"_Any_ night that you would grace us with your presence should be considered a worthy reward for our faithful obedience," quickly came the flaxen beauty, but her head remained downcast. She was also quick to return her delicate sounds of grief.

"Answer me," came the deadly tone. "_Truthfully._"

"I-"

"It is nothing," said the raven haired beauty as she shushed her sister with some haste.

An uncomfortable silence ensued until he reached down toward the exquisite creature kneeling before him and grasped her fragile neck in one hand. It was not a delicate hold and so she subsequently struggled in futile against his supreme strength.

To her knees and then to her toes she was dragged higher and higher by the unbreakable grip at her neck.

Exerting no small amount of pressure he snarled, "Do you take me for a complete fool? Your usefulness wore thin a time ago!"

He shook her as he delivered the reprimand and threw her light frame towards her sisters.

The three went toppling to the floor amid cries of anguish.

"You_ will_ answer before the sun rises," he snarled and approached their quaking figures.

His once darling angel raised her hand to the darkening marks on her throat in a weak gesture of protection. There was true fear in her large eyes as they watched him in trepidation.

"She is gone, but we did not make her go!"

He did not care which of them had made the declaration, but stopped his approach in order to prompt a further cry.

"Into the fire she went because she wanted to leave us!"

"To leave _you-_"

"We would never leave you as she did," howled the raven haired beauty. "We have _saved_ you from the burden of her presence."

"Saved me," he murmured darkly as he approached the dark haired dear.

He went down on one knee and reached with both of his large hands to gently cup her delicate face. There was no regret to mar her pretty face, only hopeful anticipation at his touch.

"The only feat you have ever been capable of, my dear, is brief satisfaction," he hissed the sentiment and sharply twisted her neck from her shoulders.

There was a terrible grind and gargle as brute strength ended her muted cry as quickly as it had started. The remaining Others scrambled away from the body and away from him, screaming as they were bathed in their sister's blood.

Falling over the length of silks from their fine clothes and soft cushions they piteously wailed in shock as they manoeuvred in search of an escape.

For his part, the primal scent of blood caused his fangs to descend and the face of a monster was revealed.

Sharpened features, paler skin and darker eyes. He was an Overlord of Markarth by right of might and as such, the strongest of all the Undying Lords with a demon to match.

He dropped the grisly trophy to the plushly carpeted floor and rose on a deep breath to inhale their fear with the surrounding air crackling darkly, eyes black with the demon and fangs sharper still.

Without turning to track their hurried progress across the room he mockingly raised a hand and each exiting door they approached slammed shut to prevent their escape. So easily he commanded the environment around him.

Their cries turned to shrieks as he continued to toy with them.

Louder and loudest when they cried in unison as the balcony doors simultaneously denied the fleeing females their last exit. Their choked breaths amplified in the newly darkened interior.

Finally, he let out a black laugh revealing the demon in his smile to them as they turned to stare in fright.

"My darlings," he held out his blood soaked hands, "I thought you wished to spend every_ last_ moment with me."

"Mercy-"

"_Please!_ It was for you-"

"For me that you threw my ward through a fire portal without all of the required safe guards?"

"The half-breed wanted to go home!"

The one with darkened lips shouted her defence even as she quaked further, but all the same adamantly held her ground, even as she pressed as close as possible to a closed door.

"She was never meant to be here for all this time!"

"That was not a decision which was yours to make-"

"She was an unsuitable soul for yours," entreated the flaxen female. "You can never meant to have her if you kept us in here!"

Her impassioned outburst left her chest heaving from the sheer shock of daring to voice the uncomfortable truth.

At her choice of words he slowly walked to a side board that held aged whiskey laced with were venom. It was a choice beverage amongst the Undying and a costly import.

Taking time over a manual task he turned completely from the two remaining targets for his anger and then poured a measure into a feminine flute of crystal.

He drank deep in the silence not caring to consider the awkward pause he fostered. The world could wait forever upon him for all he cared, but upon feeling the drug soothe some of the ragged nerves down his spine, he kept hold of the empty flute and then generously turned back to them with a demand.

"Tell me more."

Whilst the two had seen the rages the Undying Overlord before them had inflicted upon others, it had been many years before and of a more predictable nature. None of them had thought the mortal would illicit such a change. The new vacillation between calculating measure and berserk demon made their hearts beat at a furious pace.

The flaxen angel took her measure of his stance and approached tentatively, "My heart, I have always been true to you."

When he did not move, but merely watched her approach, she then continued, "The child was making you weak. We worried for the safety of your land and your hold on power. She grew and you showed no sign of being inclined in her direction-"

"She could never have been another one of us," interrupted the female with scarlet tipped claws from the shadows.

"She could have been nothing more than a burden with her mixed blood, more than that, she was also a danger," said the flaxen female as she bargained with her life and closed the distance between them, moulded her body against his.

Through the flush fit of their bodies he could hear her words reverberate through his chest.

"You must believe in my fealty, the child made you weak – what must the other four have thought with a female as an Elite?"

With her gained confidence in her ploy she did not become concerned when he lifted a palm to settle securely at the nape of neck.

Out of sight, in his free hand, he silently snapped the stem of the empty flute in one fluid motion as he said to her softly, "Weakness is a vile thing, yes?"

"Yes," she replied hopefully, so close to him that her sweet breath softly fanned against his skin.

"You would not wish me to be weak any longer?"

He asked the question of her as he deftly sank his long fingers into her hair pressing his fingertips to her skull. It was the closest that either had been to each other in many years, attested to by her resultant purr of satisfaction.

"Answer me," he murmured thickly with his possessed eyes taking in her bloody visage.

The lifeblood of her sister smeared across her features. The pale perfection of her skin at beautiful odds with the fresh evidence of his kill.

"Yes," she moaned with her fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket. Drawing ever closer to soak into the appeal of his touch.

He brought his lips down, almost to hers, and she was so desperately lost in him that she failed to hear her sister's outraged warning, or notice his other hand swiftly plunge the sharp crystal stem into the side of her throat.

Her mouth gaped in surprise and an immediate rush of blood coated them both.

The thick liquid spattered with increasing force from her neck as he gradually drove the instrument of her demise deeper. Until the base of the stem cruelly kissed her nape. She glared defiantly up him and tried to spit words of hate, but they only culminated in a bloody rivet tracking down her chin and throat to pool between her breasts.

He smiled down at her as she sagged in his arms and said, "And so I would remove the weakest links from my armour."

A slight adjustment and he then gently licked at the trail of blood which ran so freely down her throat. With the light of the Undying fading from her eyes he said with cruel finality, "Once so sweet and now such a bitter vintage."

He dropped her lifeless corpse to the floor and it landed in an inelegant heap at his feet.

Then, his final and last item of quarry started to cry in earnest whilst huddled in a small ball. Deep in the shadows of the palatial room she cried for the inevitable outcome.

"No one will come should they hear you," he said quietly, carefully, well aware of her enhanced hearing that would be able to take note. The panic consuming her mind was another matter.

After straightening the lapels of his jacket he stepped over the fallen angel and stalked to his final target. Her shrieks grew louder still and she unfurled to avoid him from where she huddled.

Three times she attempted to avoid him and three times he trapped her as a cat would trap a mouse for amusement's sake. As he finally caught her about the waist she turned her terrified eyes upon him, "Spare me! I would make a good sister to her!"

He regarded her for a puzzled moment and then asked, "Sister?"

"When you cla-claim her as your twin soul, I would be a good sister to her." At his further look she added, "Here in our quarters that we have always kept. She would need to learn much-"

"Now, now my beauty," he crooned at her, "I have made no mention of twin souls."

"But my sisters! You would not have..."

She trailed off in confusion, but the devilling glint of fractured pieces looking back at her made her continue, "Why would you kill us all then?"

He tutted in distaste, then added, "My reasons remain my own, but be safe in the knowledge I will not give your souls rest-"

"_No!_ You cannot harvest our souls!"

She screamed it at him and struggled with all the might she had to get free.

"You cannot be so unworthy to us!"

"I can be anything that I wish to be," he said and pulled her head to forcibly rest against his chest.

Both of his arms wrapped tightly around the fragile beauty's back, caging her, preventing any further movement of her arms. Her small feet where deftly lifted from the floor by his taller frame and they kicked uselessly against him. Her muffled cries continued and then turned to agonised sounds as he tightened his embrace to a painful extent.

"But this is as you wished," he said staring blankly at the closed balcony doors as he heard the first rib snap under the pressure.

Tighter and tighter, he crushed her thorax, the odd feel of bone pressing up through skin at abused angles could be felt through the fine material of his coat, but he did not grimace. He compressed her smaller body against his own until there were no more sounds issued – by her vocal chords, or body.

Upon the physical release of her form there was no thought given to yet another body that dropped heavily to his feet, but he did sigh at the thought of his valet admonishing the state of his clothing.

Blood was terribly difficult to wash out.

"Enzio," he said the name without inflection as he commanded the balcony doors to open once more.

The sea breeze was soon to follow.

As he waited a moment for the summons to be answered, the moon continued to filter through the cloud cover, in through the open doors to partially illuminate the scene once more.

It lent a ghastly quality to the three dead women that lay about the room.

"Yes, my liege," came the sombre tones from behind Vladislav as Enzio materialised from seemingly no where.

He did not need to turn towards the voice to know that the younger male was bowed in a position of respect. There would be no questions or remarks at the sight that greeted Enzio either.

"Three gems for each soul," Vladislav said and half raised his bloodied hand in the air. His tones were cold, measured, neither an indication of satisfaction or urgency.

Before Enzio three gems appeared. Without prompting he caught the three soul gems within his gloved grasped. It would not be the first time that he was privy to the products of the dark arts - whether he looked forward to the spectacle of finalising the entrapment was unclear.

"Keep them until I call for them - I can only imagine how your sister will appreciate them."

There was a new edge to the Overlord's demeanour as he spoke of_ her_. It was unclear to Enzio whether the object of his interest would benefit from it or not, but first they would need to find her. The question of how they would achieve their shared aim remained on the tip of his tongue.

"As you wish," replied Enzio choosing the more difficult route of patience and then promptly disappeared as discreetly as he had arrived leaving the Overlord to stare openly into space.


End file.
